Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Where is our big bang?Where is the creative chaos who’scunt will bear our true brave new world?Bogged down in the racket of ahundred million iPhonesLostin the pagesof Facebook

iam not a Phonea Macor a PC

My facemay be a book,but for my statusyou’ll have to ask me

HeyStep away from that screenLook upThe world is burning!Chagall’s horse haslong since shat outNero's violinbut just for usthey cleaned it offelectrified itand plugged us inand noone has noticedthe bitter stenchof our collective burningever since

But forsouvenirs heap'd up on sagging card tables orhanging from walls in the tunnel like shuk-_____________________Jewellry, and sandals,_____________________narghilla and t-shirtsBut forwind tossed trash dancingdown three-o-clock-alleyways, &cats who dart out fromcool parked car shade

But for thelong and slowly stretchingdark shadows of inevitability,Jerusalem isbeige at noon, and atsunset, gold.

_________________ha'am im hagolan - "the people are with the Golan"_________________shuk- open air market place heavily frequented by tourists_________________narghila- hookah

Saturday, May 07, 2011

She’s going to Jerusalem she says,next month, end of June.“Bring me a shoko besakit” I say,knowing she’ll never get it through.Inevitably, the bag would explode,_______dousingunderwear and t-shirts in chocolate milk.Plus, a Palestinian, she’dnever get it through customs,a matter of grave national security! Soshe suggests instead, she’ll enjoy one for methere, snipping off the corner of thebaggie with her teeth, sippingcold chocolate milk in theYerushalmi sun⎯maybe in Independence Park. Finally, I say,“Don’t forget the lachmaniyah.”

______________shoko besakit – chocolate milk sold in a sealed plastic bag______________Yerushalmi – pertaining to Jerusalem______________lachmaniyah – a roll, often eaten with shoko basakit

Monday, May 02, 2011

Seen from the buswhilst at the bus stopSixty Second Streetthrough opened back doorsacross busy sidewalkgirl sitting in Starbuck’swindow papercup coffeelooking out at meNow the doors closebut the gaze isn't brokenthough behind two sets of windowsshe’s a galaxy away.

Seeds In The Vacuum

Inbar Frishman, is an American/Israeli, punk rock whore, a queer, trans dyke, and poet/spoken word artist.
Informed by the likes of Gary Snyder, T'ao Ch'ien and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, Ms. Frishman's poems refuse to hang the reader up with ego driven, adjective weighted lines, and instead, draw them into intimate moments of transformation, where words themselves become secondary, and one is left haunted by the feeling that the experience on the page had been ones' own all along.
Her past writings have appeared in multiple editions of Metromorphosis and Public Illumination Magazine, as well as on velvetparkmedia.com.
Inbar's first book of poetry, "Things Missed in Exile", is available either through Nirala Publishing, or from the author at readings or by request. A limited number of signed copies are currently available through St. Mark's Books, in New York.
Inbar performs her spoken word throughout New York, and can be booked for special engagements.